


Save Me from My Sins

by IceKK



Category: The 100 (TV), The 100 Series - Kass Morgan
Genre: Eventual Smut, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-30
Updated: 2017-06-13
Packaged: 2018-11-06 23:38:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,606
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11046720
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IceKK/pseuds/IceKK
Summary: She has been told that she can’t keep blaming herself forever. He has been told that he can’t be running away from his feelings forever. They both have nightmares to haunt them, but maybe redemption can be found after all. Maybe all it takes is a kindred spirit.Set after 4x08 God Complex.





	1. I.

**Author's Note:**

> Hi everyone, I have been hesitant to post this because I haven't been writing for a long time and you probably can even call it my first work because that's the first time I'm writing a story in English. But hey, Roan and Clarke are too amazing together, right? xx Probably even I can't spoil that too much :) Anyways, hope you enjoy it.  
> The story starts at the scene where Clarke injects herself with nightblood.  
> I really appreciate everyone's feedback <3

Clarke slowly, hesitantly turns away from Abby, her supportive smile transforming into a frown at the thought of what has just happened. It has not fully come upon her yet but she knew that she would blame herself for that later. Has her mother just destroyed the humanity’s only chance for survival? Potentially. Has Abby done it because of Clarke? Yes, and not that she could blame her for that, she was her daughter and if it was the other way around, she would do the same without hesitation. Now would she? Was it another thing she could blame herself for? For being the reason why everyone would die in ten days? She did not know now and she was not willing to find out right then. She just keeps staring at the floor with a completely indifferent look in her eyes, in full silence which everyone in the lab is too afraid to break. 

“I will go to the white house, I just need some time to take everything in,” Clarke finally murmurs, barely loud enough for everyone to hear, and raises her eyes to look at people around her. She shouldn’t, because seeing the looks on their faces just makes the feeling in the pit of her stomach grow stronger. And worse. She lets out a nervous semi-laugh, her stare back at the floor and head down, and starts slowly moving towards the stairs leading outside.

“Wait, Clarke, you shouldn’t go alone,” Abby says through uneven breathing mixed with sobs. She is still sitting next to the radiation chamber she has just destroyed with her knees pulled towards her body, as if she is trying to make herself appear infinitely small and insignificant, the way she is feeling right now. 

“I will be fine,” simply states Clarke in a soft voice with a bit of a sad undertone to it. She turns her head to look at her mom, and gives her a reassuring half-smile, “I promise.”  
You couldn’t say it seeing the look in Clarke’s eyes though. Dark and heavy. Like the burden she accepted to carry the second the injected herself with night blood. Once she starts slowly turning away, she hears steps in front of her. She looks up to find Roan looking at her with a slight frown and a serious expression on his face, looking sincerely concerned. 

“I am coming with you,” Roan states firmly looking her in the eyes. He is standing right next to the stairs with his arms crossed at his chest, not for a second breaking the eye contact with Clarke. The expression on his face is hard to interpret. Overall, he just looks tired, like all the people in that room, but is it just that?

“I can take care of myself, thank you very much,” Clarke lets out after a second of hesitation. She does not really want to argue right now but she does not need a babysitter either. What are they thinking, that she is going to do something stupid, like finish her life off? What was the point if the radiation would do it for her in 10 days anyway. So she doesn’t put too force into her words, just a tired remark which is more of a reflex than real resistance.

“Sure you can,” he smirks, narrowing his eyes and then breaking the eye contact to just simply start going up the stairs, to the exit from the lab. Clarke stands there watching him, unable to let out any words. She just doesn’t know what she could say to avoid any of this, and, frankly, she does not know whether she wants to be completely alone either. As he is reaching the last step, he throws a quick glance over his shoulder and urges, “Are you coming?”

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Clarke whispers underneath her breath, too devastated to fight, and, honestly, Roan is far from being the worst companion right now. She just needs to get away from her people. At that thought something inside her twitches as she asks herself whether he is her people too. She is not ready to answer that. With that thought on her mind, she sighs and follows Roan up, “Fine.”

___________________________

The walk is short but the ambiance of the island is making it feel way longer than it is supposed to be. Heavy and frighteningly dark, the skies are not giving any hope to find a quick solution in the near time. Rather, they serve as some sort of a countdown to whatever is coming. Black rain, radiation waves? Clarke is thinking that she doesn’t deserve forgiveness, for everything she has done, and those things are unforgiving. 

They are completely silent, and only wind is howling in the air, with Roan’s heavy steps making sound behind Clarke. 

“We should hurry,” Roan’s hoarse voice breaks the silence as his distance to Clarke shortens to barely existing. 

“Have anywhere urgent to be?” Clarke smiles ironically, not looking back at Roan. It seems like she is staring at something far in the distance, but the fact is that she is just completely in her thoughts, and not looking at Roan makes it easier at that second. Suddenly the skies are struck with a flash of lightning, and as the wind tears leaves from the trees, the raindrops start falling from the sky. The air is ominously misty, almost like it was when they first learned the nature of acid fog.

“No, just have some more pleasant ideas in mind for suicide apart from black rain,” he looks at the sky with a frown on his face as he mutters that, “I can share later if you listen for once and speed up.”

Clarke does not say a word but increases the pace. 

“Good, at least you saved me from excessive arguing,” sighs Roan, “I have a feeling I will get enough of that later.”

“Nobody asked you to come,” snorts Clarke.

With that, the corner of Roan’s mouth crooks and he has to restrain himself from giving her a “seriously?” look. But instead, a question of why he actually decided to come with her slowly starts crawling into his head, and he can’t answer the question right away, or at least he tells himself that he can’t. What he has to admit though is the fact that recently being around Clarke made him feel some weird sort of comfort, a feeling long forgotten by the King of the Ice Nation, a feeling he promised himself was forbidden for him. 

Having been banished from the Ice Nation and having had to live a life as an outcast, Roan had to break every tie to home he had ever had, distance himself from everyone he had ever known, and learn to live with the pain and numb it. Persuade himself he did not feel its stinging presence under the skin, burning every second brighter than the prime fire, maybe he already forgot about it. Maybe he let go. But maybe it was still there, hidden under the layers of royal attires and cold attitudes, waiting to break free to burn even stronger.

She was the first person ever since he was banished from his own land to bring any sort of genuine human feelings into his life. It was some sort of a bond they had built, no matter the fair share of attacks of different sorts they have had on each other. He wished that he could say they had built trust between them, but he knew better than to trust anyone, even if there was a burning temptation to do so with the sky girl. He did not know what it was between them, it was something long ago lost and forgotten, and he unconsciously kept coming back for more. 

One second he is lost in his thoughts and the other he feels burning pain on his cheek. “Ouch,” exclaims Clarke two steps away from him as she looks in the sky, feeling several more raindrops land on her cheeks. “Black rain,” she murmurs astounded and suddenly she feels a rough touch on her wrist, startled. Without thinking twice, Roan grabs Clarke by the wrist and pulls her with him. 

“I told you I had more pleasant ideas in mind,” grunts Roan.

Another second, and they find themselves running towards the house looming it the distance away from them. It seems only two hundred meters away, but the agonizing pain from the contact of the rain with bare skin makes it feel way farther. Clarke, dressed only in a light jacket, starts feeling the rain soaking through the thin fabric, and she is prepared to feel more pain, but it just gently tingles her skin, still giving a burning sensation, but this time a lighter one as if her body is adjusting to the substance. On the other hand, she notices Roan grit his teeth in pain as they reach the porch. She looks up at him and her eyes widen with worry as she sees his face all inflamed and swollen from just mere seconds of contact with the rain. 

“Please don’t look at me like I’m dying Clarke,” he groans as he opens the door and weakly lowers to the floor, with Clarke running inside and shutting the door behind them. His eyelids feel heavy and he hears her voice somewhere in the distance.


	2. II.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heey everyone!
> 
> I'm sorry for this chapter being quite short, but I needed to stop it there to make the third one the way it's turning out to be. I'm finally done with moving from one city to another, so I will be updating more frequently from now on. Or at least I hope so :)
> 
> Thanks for everyone who's read, left kudos, or commented on this story, I really appreciate it and it means so so much to me <33 Hope you enjoy this chapter, promise the next one is going to be much better, cause it focuses on Clarke and Roan's relationship development, and I am soo excited (their conversations are my favorite part to write! :)

“Roan, come on, we need to wash it off of us,” Clarke almost cries, and she knows that right that second she is not worried about herself. She still feels the biting touch of the rain on her skin, but night blood doesn’t let it do any more damage than that. Or at least it doesn’t seem like it does.

“Shit,” Clarke mutters as she throws a look over her shoulder to find Roan weakened on the floor behind her, his face and hands all red. Her hands almost automatically reach her temples as she closes her eyes trying to recollect any knowledge that could help her in alleviating the effects of the rain on Roan. Pictures of her mother explaining how to treat burns flow through Clarke’s mind, but she feels them all slipping away too quickly, too incoherent to make sense of them at the time. The wave of panic rises in her chest as she feels helpless. Unable to do anything. Again. 

_Think, Clarke. You don’t have much time._ Her mother’s voice, a soothing breeze carrying a familiar but long forgotten sense of safety, makes Clarke take a deep breath. In. And out. Wasting no more time, Clarke throws her jacket off of her with a thought that she personally needs to shower crossing her mind. _Shit, if only I could get Roan upstairs._ But she drops the thought as quickly as it appears, rushing towards the kitchen instead to get a towel. Hands shaking, she puts it under the ice cold water in the kitchen sink, taking it out moments later to get back to the entrance. As she reaches the door, to her surprise she finds Roan on his feet, leaning onto the door behind him. 

“Roan, oh god,” Clarke dashes towards him, and in a second she awkwardly places his left arm on her shoulder to help him walk to the couch. She feels his body tense but he keeps silent, and she grits her teeth to support his body weight almost fully on her. Clarke notes that his body is way too hot, which means he is already having a fever, and by her calculations that’s an absolutely awful sign.

“Clarke…” his voice weak and hoarse, Roan tries to disentangle himself from her as if he just noticed her presence right next to him. “I can…” he coughs, unable to finish the sentence, and some blood drips onto the floor in front of them. She doesn’t let him finish.

“Sure you can,” she copies what he earlier said to her. He doesn’t try to argue.

As they both basically fall onto the couch, she takes a deep breath, and not letting herself fully recover she gets up to be able to help Roan better. Reaching to her shoulder, she gets the towel she wet earlier and leans closer to Roan to place it against his forehead. 

“You'll be fine, I promise,” mumbles Clarke but as she sees Roan unconscious again she knows that the words are uttered more to reassure her rather than him. He can’t hear her. 

Letting out a sigh, she bites down on her lip while her hands keep moving carefully washing off the residue of the rain from the king’s face. “He is strong,” she tells herself. 

___________________________

He _feels_ her gentle hands on his forehead. He _feels_ her smile, a ray of sun shining through the ominously dark clouds of the day's stormy sky. He _feels_ her soft voice brushing his cheeks, but it's too far away for him to make out any words she's saying. He _feels_ her so close, yet so far, as if she’s slipping through his fingers like a fist full of dry powdery sand.

The warmth of the place soothes his dry skin, and even with his eyes closed he knows it's light outside despite the clouds forming an intricate ornament on the sky above his head. It feels safe. Safer than he ever felt before. Warmer than he ever did. And thus, he gives in to the feeling of this warmth slowly settling in his body, reaching the most well-hidden places inside his soul. 

As time passes, the warmth starts to transform into something else. It is unnoticeable at first, a tingling feeling spreading throughout his body slowly, carefully, as if it’s trying not to scare him away. Not to let his usual alertness step into the spotlight. Alertness that has helped him survive for so long on the ground, alertness that hasn’t been letting him narrow the distance between him and anyone who truly tried to walk into his life any closer than it was necessary. Like a particular girl with silky blonde hair, whose voice kept playing in his mind like a summer sweet melody to his ears. 

He barely notices how the tingling grows stronger with every second spent, until he realizes the he can’t feel the warmth anymore, and safety brought along with it dissipates unhurriedly as if it’s teasing him, laughing at him for believing he could hold on to it longer than these mere moments. And here comes the numbness, sudden and painful, as he desperately tries to retrieve the sensation of warmth radiating through every inch of his body only seconds ago. But it’s gone, along with everything else. Along with her smile, her touch, and her voice. The world feels lifeless, and as he awaits the familiar biting cold to occupy its rightful place, it doesn’t. Not a second later, not a minute, and not even an hour. Or what seems to be an hour. It just feels empty. 

A panic, not a feeling common for him, starts to rise in his chest as now light starts to be taken away from him, everything a blur. As he tries to open his eyes, the realization that he was never able to do this dawns upon him, and he questions why he never looked around in the first place. Something he’d always do, something he was taught as a warrior, knowledge ingrained in his mind. The voice inside his head readily whispers the answer: “You were too afraid it would all be gone the second you came to your senses.”


End file.
